Patronus Problems
by FatesMistake
Summary: Severus witnesses Harry's Patronus by chance, and becomes consumed with curiosity. A commonly believed myth in the Wizarding World is that two alike or relative Patronus is indicative of true love. They are, after all, representative of the caster's soul. Now, of course, Severus has to decide if he believes in the significance of his doe to Potter's stag.
1. Chapter 1

Severus stepped into the fireplace in his quarters and appeared to finish the step in Grimmauld. To see the actions in the same instant you'd have said he simply _walked_ through the floo, rather than spinning through the air from Scotland to very near the heart of London. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin did not witness the first half of this excursion, but were both privy to the seamless exit. Black, the convicted felon who never really did what he'd been accused of (but had done plenty he hadn't been), in spite of the differences between him and the man who appeared so suddenly in his family home, would have said, if asked, that he'd been gobsmacked by the sheer grace of the maneuver. Lupin, who did not have quite as many differences with the man who appeared so suddenly in his friend's family home, was slightly less stunned, but still thought it the most elegant thing he had witnessed any man do.

Before either man sitting in the living room at Grimmauld could move or think, Severus focused narrowed eyes on Lupin. "You _lied_ to me!" He snarled.

Lupin flinched visibly, and it wasn't near enough to the Full Moon on either side for it to have been the sound that caused the twitch and tensing of his shoulders. At the least, he had an idea of why Severus had come in such a huff, if he didn't outright know. He looked guiltily away from the accusatory black gaze.

Black, who had no sense of tact, misread the situation as one that should involve him at the fore (as he misread every given situation, even when he knew what either party was talking about, which, in this case, he didn't). He addressed Severus angrily, standing in defense of his friend. "What the hell are you talking about? Get out of my house, _Snivellus_ , you have no right to be here!"

Severus ignored him, still glaring silently at the former Defense Instructor, accusing him with the very set of his jaw and narrowing of his eyes. Black looked ready to protest his presence again, this time with actions instead of words, but Lupin finally looked up. He still looked to be wincing, but he seemed to accept what had come to pass.

"Sirius, could you…give us a moment? Severus and I have things we need to discuss privately."

"Like hell, Moony!" Black said, not turning to his friend.

Slowly, as if the sockets were rusty, Lupin's eyes moved from the vicinity of Severus' chest to the back of Black's head. "Sirius, now."

The command brooked no argument, but still the dog animagus tried, rounding on Lupin. "But, Moony, I-"

"Now, Sirius…Please."

Something in Lupin's eyes, or perhaps the way he had said please in a bereft, begging tone, had his childhood friend deflating. With a final dark sneer at their company, he trudged out of the room. As soon as the door closed, the werewolf returned his gaze to the irate Potions Master still standing by the fire.

"What's this about, Severus?"

Severus knew from the way he asked that he only wanted confirmation. Lupin was well aware of what had brought about his sudden appearance in Grimmauld. The Potions Master straightened prepared for a fight.

"You told me it was a horse, Lupin!"

Another flinch. "I'm sorry."

Severus bowed up, his spine arcing as he struggled to control his anger. He felt a lick of his magic, so well controlled since his youth, dance around him. It was the first flighty tendril that harbored a complete lashing out, something he had witnessed so many times from his students but hadn't had since he had been one himself. Except for one particular student's careless breach of his privacy, he had never felt anger as dark and terrifying as this. This wasn't simple anger, it was _rage_ , and he could feel it burning hotly in the pit of his stomach.

"You're _sorry_?!" He queried, almost shouting. "You purposefully hid the truth from me! You let me believe that he wasn't…" He didn't finish. He didn't know _how_ to finish, had no idea of where the sentence had intended to go. Some glimmer of it lay hidden in the depths of his mind, but it slithered away before he could grab hold.

"Would it have made any difference if you had known?" Lupin asked calmly.

"You know that it would have!" Severus cried. He knew the timbre of his voice was rising, but he couldn't seem to help it.

"Why?" Lupin demanded, standing slowly. "You knew who his parents were, surely you suspected something like this."

"Of course I did, you fool! That is why I asked, when I first learned that he had produced one! And you _lied_ to me!" Severus accused for the second time.

"Why does it matter? Why does your knowing _now_ make any difference?" Lupin demanded again.

Severus glowered. "You _know_ what it means, Lupin! You knew what it meant when you deliberately withheld the truth!"

"You hated him then, and you hate him now!" Lupin shouted angrily. "So why should the form his Patronus takes matter? It's a _story_ , Severus! Like the fairy tales the Muggles tell of our World!"

"It's not!" Severus shouted back. His magic unleashed for a moment before he reeled it back in, concussing the room and sending Lupin back a step, almost toppling him backwards into the couch. Several shelves, and their contents, rattled dangerously. "There are a million examples of it, Lupin! Too many to be a coincidence! You know this to be fact, you've seen it yourself!"

Lupin groaned in frustration. "So _what_? That doesn't mean it holds true in every case! Look at me and Sirius! His Patronus is a dog that looks eerily like me in werewolf form, and mine is a wolf! Can't you see that this is foolishness?"

In a fit of uncontrollable rage, Severus turned and slammed his fist into the mirror hanging above the mantelpiece. It made for a poor substitute of Lupin's lying face. His magic enhanced the force, shattering the reflective glass, and the Potions Master slumped against the brick of the fireplace.

"It isn't." He murmured.

The shards of glass he'd scattered across the floor suddenly came together again in the frame, and black eyes stared wearily into repaired mirror, to the reflection of the werewolf behind him. Lupin tucked his wand back into his sleeve and stared resolutely back.

"Severus, please…why is this so important to you? We both know that Harry's Patronus doesn't have to mean a _damn_ thing, so why do you care?" Lupin asked, his tone significantly softer than the shouting match from moments before. "It only matters if you _want_ it to. Do you?"

Severus hesitated, unsure if it was because he didn't know the answer, or because he was _afraid_ of the answer. "I…I don't know _how_ I feel," He admitted. "He-he isn't what I thought he was. I find myself treading treacherous and unknown waters, Remus. I keep trying to envision the boy I'd always thought took after his arrogant prick of a father, but it doesn't fit with the _man_ I see before me. It isn't just his defeat of the Dark Lord…something in the past two years besides that has opened my eyes and removed my blinders. God help me, but I want to go back to the way things were."

"Well, _that_ just isn't going to happen," Remus said simply. He shrugged when Severus glowered at his reflection. "You may not like it, Severus, but it's true. It doesn't really matter to _me_ why you've suddenly begun to see Harry for who he is, something many of us have tried to get you to do in the past; but it should matter to _you_. You need to figure out what it was that first drew your eyes away from the tip of your nose in regards to Harry. I suspect that, once you've figured that out, you'll find the real answer you came here for. An answer only you can provide."

Severus frowned and looked away from the reflection. "Why did you lie?"

Lupin sighed noisily. "Because I wanted you to discover who Harry was without something like that forcing you to do so. You're right, I _do_ know that our Patronus' form tends to indicate our Soul Mate just as much as our magic's reaction to someone, and I didn't want you to think you _had_ to change your opinion of Harry based solely on this one thing. If you'd found out back in his Third Year, you would never have known if you were really seeing him, or if you were just letting your emotions get the better of you. This way, you have a chance to understand what connects the two of you, rather than fighting it. I'm sorry I lied, but I honestly thought it was in both of your best interest."

Severus, who was not in a habit of exposing himself this much to anyone, straightened and shuttered his emotions behind his typical cold mask. "Would he know what it means, if he were to see my Patronus?" He turned on the man he could almost call a friend.

"I doubt it," Lupin answered apologetically. "He knows very little about our world, and I don't see when he would have had occasion to be told, since it's typically something wizarding parents tell their children before Hogwarts. Everyone thinks it common knowledge, so no one thinks to tell those who weren't magically raised, much like anything else not taught at Hogwarts."

"Good," Severus said succinctly. "I would ask that you don't tell him. I rarely have occasion to use my Patronus, but I would not risk his figuring it out."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't need to give him another reason to hate me. According to Minerva, he is sickeningly in love with his best friend's sister, and if he were to find out that we are… _compatible_ , it would only increase the disdain he feels for me," Severus explained.

Remus frowned. "You don't know that. He might- Severus, you're bleeding."

The Potions Master looked at his left hand, which Remus had gestured to. The knuckles and tops of his fingers were dribbling blood from several lacerations, some possibly made worse when the glass shards were drawn from his skin thanks to the werewolf's _reparo_ on the mirror. He drew his hand back defensively when Remus stepped towards him with his wand drawn.

"It's fine," Severus snarled.

Before Remus could argue, Severus turned to the fireplace, plucked a small handful of floo powder from the pot on the mantle, and tossed it into the crackling fire, all in a single move. He would have to floo to the Teacher's Lounge, as it was the only fireplace that allowed anyone to floo in from outside the castle besides the Headmaster's office (and only then if you were keyed to the wards as a professor). This suited him fine as he stepped into the fireplace and called his destination, since it was much closer to the Infirmary. He wouldn't admit it aloud, not even to a man he thought might be his friend, but now that he had acknowledged his hand, it smarted terribly. It was actually possible he had broken something besides the skin.


	2. Chapter 2

'Much closer' might have been an exaggeration, in regards to the staff room's proximity to the Hospital Wing. It was certainly closer than Severus' quarters, but it was still two floors and too many corridors to count away. Severus was walking down one such corridor now. His hand, which was still bleeding rather tenaciously, had been wrapped in a kerchief from his own pocket.

A glance out the windows slowed Severus' pace thoughtfully. It wasn't the same vantage point he'd had from the grounds, but he could still see the tree by the lake where he'd witnessed Potter's Patronus, as well as a few of the Gryffindor's friends'. Merlin only knew what had brought about their decision to cast the spell, perhaps showing them off for the younger years nearby, but Severus had been on his way back from Hagrid's Hut when he'd caught a glimpse of the silvery stag. At first, he'd begun to look around for that prat, James Potter, as a reflex, but when he'd turned his head fully to look at the Patronus, he'd seen the younger Potter laughing gaily with his friends while the four Patronus' frolicked around the tree. It looked as if the four silvery creatures were playing tag, but Severus hardly noticed the other three. He had eyes only for the stag, and the young wizard who had produced it. A feeling like ice had flowed through his veins, and then the terrible fire of rage had replaced it, which is what had led him to 12 Grimmauld. The sight of the tree brought back the feeling of ice and baffling confusion over his opinion of the Wizarding Savior.

"Oof! Hey, I- Oh, I'm sorry, Professor."

Severus turned to see the very young man of his thoughts, as if summoned.

"My apologies, Potter," Severus said unthinkingly.

Vibrant green eyes widened in surprise. "Um…no problem," Potter said, furrowing his brow. "It was my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Nor was I," Severus replied evenly. "We should both take more care in the future."

Potter's eyes darted away from his as he smiled with embarrassment. "I guess so. I- You're bleeding."

Severus looked down at his hand, which he'd forgotten for a moment. "It is nothing, Potter." This was more of a lie than he had told Remus. The kerchief was already stained red with his blood, and it was now obvious from the set of his fingers that he had at least dislocated one of the knuckles.

Potter frowned up at him, and with a sharp quickness Severus had never witnessed from the young man off of the Quidditch Pitch, he reached out and grabbed Severus' wrist. The brat unwrapped the kerchief in the same moment, and had his wand in hand in the next.

"Potter, what're you-" The snarl was back in Severus' tone, but it went ignored.

"Hang on, Madame Pomfrey just taught me this spell," The Gryffindor interrupted matter-of-factly. He dipped his wand, then flicked it, whispering under his breath.

Severus grimaced at the feel of his bones grinding lightly together in the knuckle of his middle finger. He watched as the broken skin began knitting itself together, stoppering the blood flow. When it had done, he made to pull his hand back, but Potter moved his hand down to grip Severus' long fingers. This action sent a spark of electricity up Severus' spine so strong that he actually felt his knees try to buckle. Potter's arm jerked, tightening his grip momentarily.

"Sorry," Potter murmured, blushing again. "Static."

The Potions Master grunted, pursing his lips as Potter examined his freshly healed hand. It had, in actuality, been no such thing as simple static electricity, but he wasn't about to explain what it _had_ been. He waited patiently while Potter stood bent over his hand, looking it over as if he expected the wounds to reappear. When the brat was satisfied, he released the cold fingers and looked up with a grin.

"Good as new," He announced proudly.

Severus frowned and lifted his hand before him, stretching and wiggling the fingers. "Thank you, Potter," He said haltingly, as if the words were unfamiliar to him. "Dare I ask where you would have had occasion to learn such a complicated healing spell?"

Potter grinned again in embarrassment. "Like I said, Madame Pomfrey taught me. Hermione's decided she wants to be a Mediwitch, so she asked me to go with her to learn some basic healing. I figured it wouldn't do any harm, since I'm in the Hospital Wing so often, anyway. It never occurred to me that I might get a chance to _use_ the spells, at least not like this. I figured my first patient would be…well, me. I'll see you later, Professor."

Severus said nothing as Potter moved around him to continue down the corridor. He was too surprised to have responded, even if he'd wanted to. Aside from Poppy Pomfrey, he knew no one who could have cast that spell as painlessly as Potter had just done, which is why he hadn't healed it himself, or let Remus do it. Bones were tricky, and painful to reset no matter if you used magical or Muggle means. He was also stunned by Potter's almost kind demeanor. Not only had the boy healed him for no other reason than that he'd known how and wanted to help, but he had _smiled_ at Severus… _twice_. This was not the disdainful, disrespectful brat Severus had watched leave for the Hogwarts Express home just a few months ago.

What had happened between the end of Potter's Sixth Year and the start of this term that could have changed the brat so drastically? For that matter, Lupin had had a point. What was it that had caused Severus' eyes to open to the change?


	3. Chapter 3

The following Saturday saw Severus in the Hospital Wing for the sole purpose of gathering Poppy's weekly Potions order. He would get it and go, as his weekend was brimming over with work already. He had, regrettably, assigned 10 inches on the properties of Beetlejuice to his Fourth Years, and now had a mountainous headache waiting on his desk as a result. Aside from this, several of his colleagues had requested potions for the next week's classes, not the least of which Minerva's annual request for a store of _Ad Normalis_ for the Seventh Years who'd qualified for Animagus study. Also waiting were letters from aggravated or anxious Slytherin parents that required pandering to. His weekend, in short, was going to be a nightmare, and the sooner he got to the tasks, the sooner he could begin sleeping off the effects of the migraine potion they would no doubt require.

"Poppy?" Severus called in the empty Infirmary. It would be just the luck of his weekend so far if the matron was on one of her rare excursions outside the wing, necessitating a secondary visit this evening. The Potions Master relaxed slightly when the Mediwitch came bustling out of her office.

"Ah, Severus, you've come for a visit," She teased. "I'd offer you tea, but I'm preparing for Miss Granger's lesson this afternoon."

Severus smirked. "A chore, to be sure. Have you got your requests?"

Poppy nodded a little abashedly. "I'm afraid it's quite a bit longer than usual. You wouldn't believe the accidents I've seen this last week, or the number of fights. It's this unseasonably hot weather. It isn't natural to sweat so with Halloween just around the corner."

Severus breathed a laugh. "Since Potter's coming to Hogwarts, I think all of us have begun to 'sweat' about All Hallows Eve."

Poppy chuckled brightly. "True enough. That poor boy just seems to attract trouble, doesn't he? Wait here, I'll get your list."

The Potions Master gave a grunt of acknowledgement. He dared not outwardly agree, even if he did so internally. However-many months ago, he would have said that Potter went looking for trouble, which would have undoubtedly started an argument with the protective witch. Now, however, it was easier for him to see Potter's adventures from the point of view of his colleagues. Yes, there _had_ been times when Potter had gone running into danger with no thought to those around him, but there had also been many times when there had been no other option. The danger had found him, and had caused the very series of events that sent him wading through monster infested waters, so to speak. Umbridge was a good example, or Granger's lie in their First Year that had covered for Potter's disastrous hero complex was another.

As Severus awaited his list of potions, no doubt buried under the mountains of paperwork that Poppy was required by the Board to fill out for each student in every incident, he glanced around the Wing. It was unusual for every bed to be empty, but Severus supposed there was occasion for everything at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Black eyes paused on the bed at the end of the wing nearest to Poppy's office. There appeared to be a naked body lying prone atop the sheets. So the Hospital Wing wasn't entirely empty. Curious, Severus moved swiftly past the other pristine beds to the single occupied one. He was surprised to find a dummy with translucent skin on the abdomen and throat, exposing a slew of plastic organs, the majority of which also appeared transparent. He studied the life-size doll carefully. He hadn't seen one since his own training in Mediwizardry, nearly twenty years ago.

"Severus, I- Oh, there you are." Poppy joined him at the foot of the bed. "I was able to pare down the list some, though it's still longer than normal. How do you like my guest? He's on loan from a friend at St. Mungo's."

"To facilitate Miss Granger's studies, I presume?"

Poppy scoffed a laugh. "Oh, no, she isn't nearly far enough along. This is slightly more advanced than she's reached after only a few weeks of study. In this, at least, Miss Granger is only an average student. No, I borrowed this for Mister Potter."

"Potter?" Severus repeated, frowning. "I was under the impression he was only assisting Miss Granger in her studies, and to learn some basic first aid for his own benefit."

Poppy's eyebrow rose suspiciously. "How _do_ you gather so much information, Severus? Yes, Mister Potter claims to only be interested in learning the basics for himself and his friend, but he's actually unusually talented. Last weekend I taught him that spell to reset bones and heal lacerations simultaneously, and he cast it flawlessly the very first time. Miss Granger hasn't even reached the point that she's ready to learn that spell, let alone cast it, I was only testing him. It's becoming increasingly clear that my work is no challenge for him."

"If he is so talented, why does he not take the study more seriously?" Severus asked dubiously.

Poppy shrugged. "Merlin only knows. Perhaps I am over-stating his skill. He has only cast the one spell, after all, aside from those basics Miss Granger has already learnt. I…Now there's an idea!" The witch exclaimed, brightening considerably and startling the Slytherin present. "Why don't you stay and observe today's lesson, Severus? You've always been the most critical of Potter. Maybe you can see mistakes I miss due to my own desire to see Potter succeed."

Severus thought of the work that required his attention, including the list in Poppy's hand. He thought of the arduous hell his weekend had become. He thought of how little time he had to get it all done if he expected to sleep at all this night or the next. He frowned at the Hospital matron, who was smiling hopefully.

"I suppose I can spare the patience to watch Potter create a disaster of my secondary degree of study," He said evenly.

Poppy grinned. "Thank you, Severus. He and Granger should be here soon. Why don't I get you that tea?" She handed him the list of potions, which he immediately pocketed, and sauntered back towards her office to floo the kitchens for a tea service.

Severus sighed, and pulled out his wand. With a few flicks, he had transfigured one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs placed around the room, and summoned the resultant armchair to an appropriate viewing distance from the practice dummy. He couldn't imagine what had been going through his mind that he had agreed to observe Potter as if the young man were a poodle on display, and thought briefly of vanishing in Poppy's absence. However, the idea of seeing Potter's skills, glimpsed so readily when the brave Gryffindor had risked being hexed by healing Severus' hand uninvited, piqued the Potions Master's interest remarkably. He had, on a few occasions, been witness to Potter's undeniable skill at Defense. It intrigued him to imagine that Potter might succeed at something that didn't constantly put his life at risk. Severus couldn't deny, not even to himself, that each time Potter had run head-long into assuredly deadly adventures his heart had dropped like a stone to the region of his stomach. Even watching the foolish, headstrong Gryffindor on a broom was a soul-wrenching endeavor of its own.

The hint of some forgotten, important concern niggled at the back of Severus' mind. What was it? Severus reached for the glimmer of light, curious where the evasive thought might lead, but it slipped away like water through cupped hands. He made again to grasp the hidden node of information, but as his consciousness latched onto the flickering candle, Poppy reappeared with their tea. The tiny flame was doused under Poppy's chatter, which Severus barely heard. He looked again for the flicker of that particular idea and was disappointed to discover it had gone entirely. He hadn't even been able to glean what the notion had related to, and now it was lost. Resigned to forgetting that trifling thought, he turned his attention to listening patiently as his colleague described the various gruesome appearances of the previous week's patients as they awaited her students.


	4. Chapter 4

Severus watched with interest. Potter and Granger were both seated together on a bed, practicing the most basic healing charms on model limbs that were spelled to acquire random maladies and injuries, while Poppy lectured them about how to approach patients who were distressed or manic. Potter generally looked bored as he cured or healed his dismembered dummy foot. Occasionally, he would glance up and catch Severus watching him, only to straighten and look as if he were concentrating. It was unnecessary. While Granger wracked her brain with each new symptom for which spell she was supposed to use, Potter instinctively flicked, swished, or waved his wand whilst mumbling various incantations as if he'd known them his entire life.

Once the lesson had ended with Potter and Granger both showing that they could magically restrain a patient without harming them, Poppy moved over to Severus' end of the wing, where lay her 'guest'. Severus stood immediately to join her at the end of the occupied bed.

"If you both would, for a moment, I'd like to trouble you for a test of sorts," Poppy called down to the two Seventh Years who had been gathering their things to leave.

Both Gryffindors shared a look, Granger's of nervous anticipation, and Potter's of mild interest, and moved down the wing to where Severus and Poppy stood. They each took up positions on either side of the bed. Granger looked up to the Hospital matron expectantly after sparing the dummy a minute glance, but Potter ignored both teachers in favor of poking and prodding the dummy curiously. Poppy cleared her throat to gain the young man's attention before she spoke.

"This is not a grade, or anything of the sort. This test is only to gauge your capabilities, and where you are in your studies. I'm going to show you the spell for administering a potion to an unconscious patient. You will watch me, and listen to the incantation. I will repeat it only once. If you can't cast the spell, or miscast it, there are no consequences. As I said, this is just to gauge your abilities. If you can however, Miss Granger, we will begin work on the next set of skills," Poppy explained.

Granger brightened immediately and drew her wand. Potter, who had had his in hand as soon as they'd approached, grinned at his friend in preemptive congratulation. Severus stepped back slightly as his colleague raised her own wand and clearly spoke the incantation. With a series of flicks and swishes, the water in one of three open potion phials on the nightstand rose from it's container and flowed in a thin rope towards, and then into, the dummy. She continued to guide the water down the transparent esophagus into the equally transparent stomach until all of the liquid had settled calmly therein. Once finished, the Hospital Matron turned first to Granger.

"Um…could you repeat the incantation?" Granger asked uncertainly.

Poppy did so, gesturing again with her wand without casting the spell. When she had finished the second time, Granger turned nervously to the dummy. Potter spoke up.

"You can do it, Hermione. Just like when you cast _Wingardium Leviosa_ the first time," The Wizarding Savior encouraged.

Granger gave a stiff nod, with a look of sheer determination, and looked again at the dummy. Her wand rose in the air, and she recited the spell carefully. Her recitation was flawless, but as she began to move her wand, her movements were jerky and tormented. The water from a second phial leapt from it's cage, splashing some on the bedside table where it sat. Severus could see already that her tendril was too thick, and this was proven true when the water entered the esophagus and expanded it far beyond human capability. She continued to work her wand, becoming more and more agitated as the water became blocked in the slim passage. Eventually, her spell broke, and she slumped in defeat as nearly half the water splashed onto the dummy's head and pillows. Poppy reached out a hand to touch the young witch's shoulder reassuringly.

"It's alright, Miss Granger. You did well for your first attempt, and I will take into account how advanced you are as we progress. This is not a simple or basic charm; it requires a level of skill we haven't yet utilized. In a few months' time we will try again, once you have made some more headway in your studies," Poppy assured the Seventh Year. She turned to the other Gryffindor, and Potter gave her his full attention. "Mister Potter, would you like to have a go?"

Potter immediately shook his head. "No, that's alright. If it's too advanced for Hermione, I'm sure to botch it up."

Granger smiled at her friend. "Oh, go on, Harry. We both know you can probably already cast the spell in your sleep after watching Madame Pomfrey do it. Besides, I want to see it done right again."

Potter scowled at his friend, but his wand rose into the air obediently. Clearing his throat mildly, he recited the incantation as flawlessly as his friend had. His wand began to move fluidly through the air, even more than Poppy's had, and the water rose immediately into the air, slipping from the last phial like a snake from a basket. A thinner tendril than even Poppy had managed slid easily into the mouth of the dummy, and Potter guided every drop of the liquid into the stomach. Despite his water rope being smaller, and longer by default, he somehow managed to coax the fluid into the stomach in less time than his instructor had done, without ever once creating a blockage in the flexible plastic throat. Severus was undeniably impressed.

Poppy grinned, and she and Granger both clapped softly. "Potter, you're a natural. Are you sure you won't let me train you properly?"

Potter shrugged, stowing his wand. "No thanks, Madam Pomfrey. I'm happy just to support Hermione."

"Why not, Potter?" Severus asked, speaking for the first time since the two students arrived. "Have you even considered it? You shouldn't let a talent like yours go to waste."

"I've kind of got my heart set on being an Auror," Potter admitted.

"Why?" Severus asked before he could stop himself.

Potter looked away in embarrassment. "S'what my dad did."

"Oh, go on, Harry. You're better than I am at this. Your dad would be just as proud of a Mediwizard for a son as an Auror," Granger insisted.

Poppy nodded. "And your mother would certainly approve. She was in the midst of her own apprenticeship when she passed."

"Really?" Potter asked interestedly. "So…you honestly think I could be a Mediwizard?"

"Obviously," Severus answered in irritation before Poppy or Granger could reply.

Potter looked down thoughtfully. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to take this a little more seriously, and do the homework you give Hermione. But there's the same problem with either career: I'm rubbish at Potions."

Severus frowned and pursed his lips as Poppy looked at him expectantly. With a sigh, he scowled. "If you're serious about considering other careers besides the one most likely to get you killed, I might be willing to offer my assistance in earning you your Potions NEWT."

Potter frowned doubtfully. "You would do that?"

"Are you serious about Mediwizardry?"

The Gryffindor shrugged. "I guess I am. I never thought I'd be any good at something besides Defense, but it's worth exploring, at the very least. I won't promise you that I'll pursue it, but I can promise that I'll give it my full consideration."

Severus gave a stiff nod to say that this was acceptable. "In that case, you will report to my office this evening and we will discuss your options for continuing Potions." The statement brooked no argument, and Severus left the Infirmary before the stubborn Gryffindor could produce one.


	5. Chapter 5

Severus, after some interesting discussions with the Headmaster, was able to get Potter enrolled in an ancient custom. In the days when the school had still been young, it wasn't unusual for a parent to feel that their child would do better with a private tutor, and one would be hired through the school. As time had worn on, this program had been instituted for students who wished to pursue a NEWT despite not having the necessary grade. It had been decades since the custom had been instituted for a student, and most people had long since forgotten about it. Severus, who had long ago memorized the school statutes, had happily suggested it be reinstituted. He certainly didn't have the patience or inclination to watch Potter butcher his most beloved art with his fumbling, bumbling manners. Let someone else put in the effort of trying to teach the stubborn young man. Even Potter's enthusiasm wouldn't be enough to temper his utter lack of skill in Potions. Potter, however, did not see things this way, and had gladly agreed to the contract that demanded repayment to the school should he fail his NEWT.

Severus, who really did want to see Potter succeed, even if not under his guidance, gladly gave up his classroom for Potter's twice-weekly tutoring sessions. He did this, knowing he could easily be absent from what he was sure would be a frustrating two hours. It was only two weeks into Potter's remedial lessons when Severus' temper forced him to play silent audience to the younger wizard's tutoring. An unruly Hufflepuff, normally the most docile of creatures save the rare Gryffindor-esque student, had managed to set off a prank at just the wrong moment. Severus had given him a week's worth of detentions, forgetting for only a moment that this would require the use of his classroom on the two particular days he had vowed to himself he would avoid it.

And thus, it was with resignation that Severus entered his classroom only minutes before Potter was due to arrive. He gave a stiff nod in greeting to Potter's tutor, a crude, stoic man by the name of Fordyce, whose reputation for impatience rivalled even Severus' own. Severus wondered, not for the first time, what it was that went through Albus' mind when hiring new teachers. There were dozens of other choices to tutor the Wizarding Savior, and this man would have been low on Severus' own list. What had Albus been thinking?

Settling into his grading behind his desk at the front of the room, not far from where Potter's tutor had set up their work station, Severus awaited the arrival of Potter and the Fifth Year Hufflepuff. Knowing Potter's disdain for schedules, he felt sure that they would likely arrive together, in spite of the detention beginning a full half hour later than the tutoring lesson was meant to. However, before Severus had even gotten through his first essay to be graded, Potter walked through the door. Severus looked up, and saw the boy had paused halfway down the aisle. A glance told him that Potter's tutor was watching impatiently. Severus returned his gaze to the startled green eyes of his student in time to see the young man blush.

"Good evening, Professor," Potter said, his tone slightly nervous. "Are you…this is going to sound wrong, but…are you going to be here the whole time?"

Severus smirked with a little cruelty. "I am here for a detention, thanks to a slight error in scheduling. Continue as if I weren't. I am not here to observe you as you rather spectacularly butcher my life's work."

Potter's blush deepened slightly, but he chuckled in spite of this. Fordyce cleared his throat roughly, grabbing the young man's attention. Severus noted with some small satisfaction that Potter grew serious as soon as he approached his tutor. At least six years of schooling had taught him to take his studies seriously, if they had taught him nothing else. Potter took up his stool at the desk his tutor had commandeered, and listened patiently as the harsh older wizard explained what they would be doing for the day. Severus harrumphed and returned to his grading. He could already tell that it would be Fordyce, and not Potter, that would frustrate him the most in his forced silent observation. The way he spoke of Potions was as much a verbal butchering as Potter's slaughtering in practice. Potter was, at the least, _trying_ to better himself. Fordyce seemed to be operating under the impression that Potions were a means to an end, and not a science of their own.


	6. Chapter 6

As a direct result of Severus' accidental-incidental attendance of Potter's tutoring lessons, Severus began grading in his classroom twice a week, on the very days that coincided with the aforementioned lessons. He was privy, thereby, to Potter's surprisingly unsurprising lack of progress. For every step forward the younger wizard made in the theory, he took two steps back in practice. Fortunately, this did not occur in the reverse. As soon as Potter grasped the physical aspect of a theory, he was much more capable of putting it into practice.

 _Un_ fortunately, Potter's tutor proved unadaptable to his particular brand of learning. Seeing only that Potter struggled continuously with the theory, Fordyce focused almost entirely on the texts, and the essays Potter handed in. Severus didn't know if the man was just ignorant to Potter's willingness to learn, or if he was woefully incapable of seeing it. Either way, Fordyce's failure to adjust to Potter's learning curve led only to supreme frustration on both sides. And, though Fordyce was unaware, on Severus' part as well. Potter seemed to sense Severus' growing frustration, and, mistaking this to be aimed at himself, made even more spectacular mistakes that the Potions Master suspected would not have been made had the Seventh Year been less nervous around him. If nothing else, it put Longbottom's disastrous attempts at potions in a new light, considering the Gryffindor had always handed in near-perfect essays.

The end result of these observations was this: Severus had grown to loathe Fordyce. It wasn't only that he continued, at every turn, to stunt Potter's ability to learn by refusing to adjust his methods. It wasn't only that he clearly resented Severus' presence. It wasn't even that he expected perfection from a student who clearly couldn't achieve it (Severus was aware that he had done this himself plenty of times). No, the thing that drove Severus to utter agitation was the loud, angry way with which Fordyce treated Potter. There was a clear flash of violent intent in Fordyce's sermons and vignettes that Severus knew instinctually would come out in action eventually; might have already, had Severus not been there to curb the worst of the temperamental man's anger.

And so, it came as no surprise when Potter unwittingly triggered the violence in Fordyce's eyes.

Potter had been working diligently for more than a month. Winter was upon them, and Severus could feel a niggling concern almost constantly at the back of his mind. There was something he couldn't remember, but Merlin only knew what it could be. He was only aware that this sense of forgetting grew stronger whenever he attended Potter's potions lessons. And then it happened.

Fordyce and Potter were working on the classic burn salve. In spite of it's common use, it was one of the more advanced potions on the curriculum. Potter was doing well. He had measured out his ingredients beforehand, or at least what _could_ be measured beforehand, based entirely off of a suggestion Severus had made when he'd grown tired of Fordyce constantly berating the young man for not measuring quickly enough. They were about halfway through the potion, and Potter was carefully sifting out the powder which would allow the potion to thicken as it cooled.

"Faster!" Fordyce growled loudly, terribly close to Potter's ear.

Potter started, jumping slightly. It was enough to accidentally dump half the powder in the jar he held, and most of it went into the cauldron. Almost immediately, the potion within thickened into a paste that Severus knew was the consistency and stickiness of glue. Potter set down the jar in his hand and stared at the cauldron with a look of absolute horror and disappointment. Fordyce, however, soon drew his attention.

"You stupid, ignorant waste of space! Look what you've done!" The man shouted angrily. His hand rose in the air, obviously intending to strike his pupil, and Potter flinched away violently.

Severus stood. "That's enough!" He growled, his voice barely audible. Fordyce turned his unperfected scowl on the Potions Master. "You will leave my classroom this instant, and you will not return until you have learned the definition of patience and civility."

Fordyce's mouth opened and closed in a grand imitation of a fish. "Now see here, Potions Master Snape, I will punish or reward _my_ student as I see fit."

"Not if I can help it," Severus snarled. "Potter is my responsibility so long as he is a student of this school, and as such it is my duty, and pleasure, to ensure his safety. Clearly he is no longer safe with you, if he ever was. I will expect you to hand over your resignation to Albus by morning, or the Headmaster will learn of your particular method of punishment. And I can assure you, he will not take kindly to it."

Fordyce, though stubborn, seemed to know when to back down. He scowled for another long moment, Potter standing by, with a look of utter surprise, at the edge of Severus' narrowed gaze. Seeing he would not win this silent battle of wills, Fordyce took up his things and pushed past Potter into the aisle, turning his back on Severus with a decidedly childish harrumph. All it lacked was the slightly younger wizard sticking out his tongue. Potter stood where he'd been violently bumped into, still looking at Snape, now with as much confusion as wonder.

Severus slowly lowered himself back into the chair behind his desk. He had finally remembered. That which had plagued him this last month or more had turned out to be precisely that which had plagued him. It had been near enough to a year ago that it had happened, the moment that had forced Severus to look again at the Boy Who Lived. He had been going to the Library last winter, and had happened to glance out of a window as he passed. It was there he had paused, having seen a flicker of movement that shouldn't have been there. After a long minute, he had seen it again, and had immediately recognized Potter's very recognizable style of flight over the Pitch.

At first, as Severus had made his way out to the Pitch, his errand forgotten, he had told himself that he wished only to take points from the Sixth Year. He wasn't out of bounds, and there were no rules against his practicing before curfew, but Severus had known it wouldn't take much for Potter to give him an excuse for point loss, perhaps even a detention or two. Especially with Potter's curious choice in friends, like the youngest Weasley male.

But, when Severus had reached the Quidditch Pitch, all thoughts of punishment for the sake of punishment were swept away, to be replaced by the icy grip of heart-stopping fear. Potter was performing aerial maneuvers, dangerous aerial maneuvers that would almost certainly land him with a broken neck. And he was completely and utterly alone.

Severus had wasted no time in calling Potter down from his broom. Almost before Potter had landed, Severus had begun berating him for doing something so unquestionably reckless. And then he had lifted his hands, with Potter standing before him. He had intended to gesture at the sky, but when Potter had flinched violently away from him with a flash of subservient fear, his hands had paused. At the time, he had put aside the reaction, but he could tell now that it had been the pivotal moment. After that, his treatment of Potter had been notably different; softer, if not his own strict version of kindness. He had, after that moment in the snow on the Pitch, begun watching the Boy Who Lived, listening more closely when the young man was discussed by Severus' own colleagues. He had, in fact, begun to _see_ Harry Potter for what he was: a damaged young man with the weight of their world on his shoulders, even after the war had ended. Severus was just slightly upset with himself, for having forgotten something so fundamental until witnessing it a second time.

The Potions Master looked up when he remembered he wasn't alone, and that there would be time for kicking himself later. Potter had quit staring at him, and had already gone through the motions of tidying up his area, his ingredients put away. As Severus watched, Potter banished his ruined potion and began carting his cauldron to the sink at the far side of the room.

"Sorry, Professor," Potter said suddenly. "I don't think I'll ever get the hang of Potions."

Severus sighed, knowing he couldn't honestly disagree. "You may leave that with the other cauldrons, Potter. I will see to it before your next lesson."

"If it's all the same, I'd much rather get it clean now," Potter said, continuing towards the sink. "It's my own mess, and if living on my own has taught me anything, it's that it's no one's responsibility but my own to pick up after myself."

Severus frowned up from his desk in confusion. "What do you mean 'living on your own'? I was under the impression you lived with your relatives."

Potter shrugged as he flipped the faucet to splash hot water into his cauldron atop the magical cleaning solution he'd already put in. He picked up a scrub brush. "I moved out. The day I turned 17, I packed up my stuff and hopped on the Knight Bus. I haven't looked back since."

Severus stood from his desk and rounded it slowly. He approached the sink, where Potter was scrubbing diligently at his cauldron. When he was near enough, he hesitated before gently touching the younger wizard's stiff shoulder. Potter started and half-turned to face him in surprise.

"Why?" Severus asked in confusion.

Potter sighed and looked away from Severus' black gaze. "My relatives…they're…they aren't good people." He returned to his scrubbing. "I was happy to escape. It took me less than a week to find an affordable one-room flat, thanks to the transfer rate of Wizarding money to Muggle. It's small, but it's somewhere besides Hogwarts that I can call home. I've been thinking about getting a larger flat after I graduate, once I've got a job somewhere."

Severus scowled and turned to return to his desk. "Miss Weasley should appreciate that."

"Ginny?" Potter scoffed. "Why would she-?" Severus turned back with curiosity when Potter barked a laugh. The Gryffindor was staring after him with a strange smile. "I didn't think teachers bought into schoolyard gossip. Ginny's just my friend. She had a crush on me when we were kids, and maybe even still does, but she's in a pretty serious relationship with…well, I'm not sure who right now. She's a bit flaky when it comes to dating. Definitely not the kind of person I'd go out with, and certainly not someone I'd want to share a flat with."

Severus smirked and blatantly disregarded the unknown blossom of feeling in his chest. "I will be sure to inform your Head of House that she was mistaken in this matter."

Potter smirked as well. "I'd appreciate that. It's bad enough half of Gryffindor thinks I'm pining after my best friend's sister, I don't need rational people thinking the same."

Severus lifted his eyebrow in suspicion. "Did you just deliver an underhanded insult to your own House, Mister Potter?"

Potter's smirk didn't falter as he returned to cleaning his cauldron. "Not so far as anyone in my House will ever know."

Severus fought down a chuckle as he returned to his desk and his grading. He won the battle with the laugh bubbling in his chest, but was certain the humor was clear in his smirk. It was gratifying, then, that Potter's back was to him, so he couldn't witness the rare smile.


	7. Chapter 7

Due to Severus' lack of foresight, the resignation of Fordyce left Potter without a tutor for a full week. Severus chose to fulfill this role for the two requisite lessons, in the absence of other options. As a result, by the time Albus came to him with news of having found a new mentor he had grown used to the idea of teaching Potter. This was undoubtedly helped along by his growing attachment to the younger wizard, but he couldn't deny that there was some reason to the preference. On a singular basis, Severus had discovered that it was much easier to summon the patience required for working with Potter's utter lack of skill.

Thus, it was with sincere regret that Severus handed Potter's lessons into the capable hands of one of his own former students. He not only regretted his earlier insistence that Albus find a new tutor quickly, but that it was this very insistence that had led to the discovery of one so soon. His only solace was in continuing to watch over Potter's lessons from behind his grading, and the occasional mistimed detention. And watch he did.

With an instructor who knew what she was doing, Potter made surprising progress in Severus' subject. So much so, in fact, that Severus noticed a distinct lack of nervousness from Potter under his new tutor's gentle guidance. Leana Piper was smart. She would spend a little time explaining theory to Potter, until the younger man's eyes began to glaze over, and then she would put the theory into practice, recapturing Potter's attention. The Gryffindor made such progress as to move on to the Seventh Year curriculum immediately following Christmas. However, his success could only carry so far. It was inevitable that he mess up again, and the longer it took for this to occur, the more certain Severus became that his screw up would be a spectacular one. The Potions Master was, therefore, slightly less surprised than Potter's tutor when this damning event took place.

Potter had been studying Seventh Year Potions for a little more than a month, under the watchful eye of his tutor and the Potions Master. They were in the midst of learning the Wiggenweld Potion. Potter had just turned to ask his tutor a question, forgetting at just the wrong moment that he needed to spell down the fire under the cauldron. Leana realized too late the mistake Potter had made, and in the same instant earned Severus' respect.

He saw it first. "Potter, your-!"

"Look out!" Leana shouted desperately.

The young woman shoved Potter to the floor, but was too late to join him there. She received the full brunt of the potion as it exploded in a boiling hot mess. She was spattered from head to toe with the unfinished concoction, and her screams rent the air. Severus, in his folly, went immediately to Potter to be sure _he_ was okay. Even as he picked Potter off the floor, his wand was slicing the air, banishing the pink-purple potion from Piper. Potter limped to a stool on the other side of the aisle, and Severus saw that the potion had eaten through the calf of Potter's slack, leaving behind an angry, blistering rash on the bronze skin.

Leana Piper was by far the worst injured. The potion had spattered her body liberally, eating through her Muggle clothing and exposing her skin, which was as red, angry, and blistered as Potter's leg. With the potion banished it could do no more harm, but the damage was done. Leana looked over her body, and Severus realized too late that she was hyperventilating. He caught her just as she collapsed in a dead faint. Lowering his burden to the ground, Severus looked around his classroom desperately. Potter, who had devolved into a deep, quiet sulk, was too injured to run for help.

Swallowing his pride bitterly, Severus raised his wand and cast his Patronus. The doe leapt around the room, drawing Potter's attention, before coming to a stop in front of Severus. Severus cleared his throat, and glanced down at the body half in his lap.

"I need your assistance immediately. There's been an accident; Potter and his tutor are both injured. Come quickly."

With another wave of his wand, the doe gave a slow nod before prancing away, through the closed door of the classroom. Severus looked nervously at Potter, but the Gryffindor had resumed his deep sulk, and looked ready to cry. Severus, feeling like he had to say _something_ , opened his mouth and prayed that what came out wasn't utterly useless.

"Potter…"

"I'm sorry," The younger wizard said, just loud enough for Severus to hear. "I'm a walking disaster."

Severus searched for something to say, and finally smirked. "If it helps at all, your destruction of this potion was actually _less_ spectacular than my own first attempt."

Potter looked up at him doubtfully.

"Mine turned to concrete," Severus insisted, casually forgetting to mention that his attempt had been two years prior to the curriculum. "I had to order a new cauldron, and go through a week of your mother teasing and laughing at me. She only quit when she attempted to brew her own Wiggenweld and wound up with a noxious cloud of gas."

Potter chuckled lightly, then blushed. "Thanks…that actually does help," He said, offering up a shy smile.

Severus continued to smirk, though he couldn't help the slight twitching of the corners of his mouth. He had no doubt that Potter noticed, as well, that he was doing his utmost not to smile. The moment was broken when Potter tried to move his leg and hissed in pain, his attention immediately turned towards his injury. Potter began casting a series of diagnostic spells on his own leg, and on the unconscious Piper. He had begun to work, and Severus felt the first tendrils of anxiety. Potter had seen his Patronus. He longed to know what was going through the younger wizard's mind, but he dared not ask. He could only pray that Potter knew nothing of the significance as the young man's thoughts became consumed by the work Poppy was training him for.


	8. Chapter 8

Poppy did eventually arrive, and by the time she had, Potter had a full diagnosis for both himself and his instructor. Poppy then very carefully explained the spells to extract the last remnants of the botched potion, and Potter performed them perfectly. After that, it was a simple matter of applying burn salve and bandaging the injured flesh. Potter watched and helped dutifully as Poppy led him through the process. Severus, feeling useless, and beginning to feel real anxiety over Potter's reaction to his Patronus, had retreated from the room and taken refuge in his office.

For the next few days, as the time for Potter's next lesson drew nearer, Severus' anxiety grew. Leana had lost whatever respect she had earned for pushing Potter to the floor, as she quit as soon as she was conscious. Her reasoning was that she simply couldn't handle the pressure, but Severus had not missed the way she had been unable to stop looking in a conjured mirror at the bandage that covered one entire side of her neck. He had little doubt that it was vanity, and not reason, which governed her decision.

This loss of a second tutor, however, meant that Severus would be the one to take over Potter's extra lessons. Albus had immediately suggested that Severus assist him in finding a new tutor, but Severus, in a moment of suicidal tendency, had said he would handle Potter's lessons for the rest of term. As far as Severus knew, Potter had not argued against this, and he held some small measure of hope that Potter had missed the significance of his Patronus. Even so, anxiety ate at him for those devilishly long days from the one disastrous lesson to next. It was the not-knowing that drove the Potions Master to distraction.

In the end, however, his anxiety was decidedly wasted. Potter came to the next lesson, limping only slightly, with no apparent difference in attitude. There was no knowing glare, no sneer of disgust. Potter simply walked into the classroom and took up the stool he had occupied for every previous lesson. He offered up a shy smile for Severus, who maintained his stoic façade. Seeing that their shared friendliness from the previous lesson's disastrous end was gone, Potter had dropped his smile and wore instead a face of sheer determination. Severus knew without asking that the Gryffindor was resolved not to allow any more slip-ups or exploded cauldrons.

The Potions Master was forced to swallow the grip of sympathy as Potter took extra care in every step of creating the assigned potion. He was beyond caution, and had moved to a place of fear. He didn't want to fail, but more than that, he didn't want to hurt anyone else. Severus knew the feeling, but could hardly commiserate with the young man without giving away the inclination he felt towards the Boy Who Lived. Instead, he allowed himself the small pleasure of guiding Potter without anger, of suggesting rather than barking, of showing the slightest hint of kindness buried under routine encouragement. He was, for these two short hours twice a week, a different man altogether, a better man. A man, he thought in the deepest recesses of his mind, that might even be worthy of love.

 _-Break-_

In spite of Potter's caution and Severus' watchful eye, another disaster was inevitable. They were working on a more basic potion from Fourth Year, but one which encompassed the theory they had been reviewing. Potter had miscounted the number of newt tails that the potion called for, and Severus realized too late that he had added two more than necessary. The potion turned to an evil-looking black, and the surface began to bubble threateningly.

Without thinking, Severus grabbed his student and turned the smaller body into the encompassing shield of his arms and hunched shoulders. He waited for the sting of explosion, but it didn't come. Slowly, black eyes opened, expecting to find a ruined classroom but instead finding it untouched. Severus glanced over his shoulder to see a shimmering shield around the cauldron, pasted black from the potion which had indeed exploded. He turned back to Potter.

"How-?"

"It's the same one you use, isn't it?" Potter asked with a blush. "I thought it might be. I researched it after what happened with Miss Piper. I didn't want something like that to happen again. I told you, I'm a walking disaster."

Severus smirked and brushed his thumb over a prominent cheekbone. "You're not. You must realize that there is a reason most Potions Masters can tell when a potion is on the verge of destruction. I've ruined my fair share of potions, and cauldrons, Mister Potter."

The Gryffindor grinned. "S'good to know you're not _always_ perfect."

Severus felt his breath hitch at these words. Was Potter teasing him? But no, there was no laughter in his eyes. What could Potter mean by that? It was unaccountable of him, to say such a thing. With a suddenness that bordered on rude, Severus extracted himself from the younger wizard, stepping back into the table they'd been utilizing. Potter bore a look of confusion for a split second before apparently recalling that they were nothing more than a teacher and his student, and taking his own step back. Severus stood by awkwardly, looking anywhere but at his student, before finally gesturing to the table he was leant against.

"Clean your workspace and you can go. Our lesson is over for today," He said with near-clinical detachment.

He saw Potter nod, eyes downcast, from the edge of his vision. With nothing more to say, Severus moved around the desk, keeping a respectable distance from the Gryffindor. He tried to adjust his thoughts to the grading that awaited him at his own desk, but they remained stubbornly with the young man behind him. Things were becoming dangerous. It would have been impossible to mistake the desire he'd felt, wrapped around Potter as he had been. This, he supposed, answered the question of his own feelings for the young man. And _that_ was definitely a dangerous knowledge to have.


	9. Chapter 9

For the next few months, Severus did his best to avoid Potter. This was easier said than done, considering their bi-weekly lessons, but he did his best. Potter would never be a Potions Master, nor even an apprentice, but he showed enough improvement that Severus felt sure, at the end of the year, that the young man had at least passed his NEWT, if only barely. The night of the Leaving Feast, Severus locked himself in his office following dinner. At last, Potter was going to be gone forever. Mediwizard or Auror, he would be out of Severus' life for good, and the Potions Master took a sad sort of pleasure in knowing that he could live out the rest of his days alone as he had always planned.

Potter, of course, defied reason by appearing at Severus' office door not long before his final curfew. Severus, who had quite literally locked himself in, stood up to answer the door. He had half-expected Remus, or perhaps one of his colleagues. He had in no way intended to see Potter standing on the other side of his door. Potter blushed under his scrutinizing gaze.

"Erm…hi, Professor. Could I trouble you? Just for a few minutes."

Severus, even knowing he shouldn't, stepped aside and let the young man into his office. He closed the door and followed stiffly as Potter approached his desk while wringing his hands nervously.

"I-I wanted to thank you," Potter said carefully. "I know I'm not the easiest student to teach, especially in your subject, so I wanted to tell you…" Potter turned, and Severus stopped short just a few agonizing feet away. "I really appreciate the effort you put in to my remedial lessons. I know you didn't have to, and I'm honestly grateful. I think I might have even passed my NEWT, thanks to you. And, even though I haven't yet decided what I'll do with it, that passed NEWT means everything. Not only because it's opened up a world of possibilities for me, but because even someone as dense as me can recognize the amount of effort it took to get me that passing grade."

Severus frowned. "I can't take credit for that, Potter."

The younger wizard frowned back. "Why not? You taught me longer than either of my other two tutors."

"That is true," Severus conceded, "But it wasn't _I_ who earned you your NEWT score. Pass or fail, that grade is a culmination of _your_ hard work, and not anyone else's."

Potter blushed, giving that boyish grin that had a habit of weakening Severus' knees. "Oh, alright…I guess that makes sense. Anyway, I'm officially graduated now, and I leave on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow, but I couldn't leave without telling you how much I appreciate your help." He stuck his hand between them. "Thank you, really…Severus."

Merlin knew what had compelled the young man to do it. Gryffindor bravado, perhaps, or even a bet between himself and one or more of his friends. Either way, it was Severus' undoing. All of his resolve crumbled, the walls around his heart, so carefully constructed, came crashing down. The sound of his name on those lips, the caress of that sinful mouth as it formed each syllable…He pushed aside the extended hand and cupped his own hands around the stiff, golden jaw. He descended on Potter, their mouths pressing together gently. Desire crashed over him like surf on a beach, washing through his veins. Potter's fingers curled around his arms, and Severus was utterly lost when it became clear that the young man had no intention of pulling away. Potter was, in fact, kissing back, with near-equal fervor.

Severus moaned into the kiss, pressing the younger wizard back. He felt it when Potter reached the front of his desk, the force slamming their bodies together and culling out a shared moan of passion. Reaching down, Severus lifted slim hips to rest on the edge of his desk. He pressed forward into the space between knobby knees and Potter groaned wantonly. The younger man pulled back.

"S-stop," He murmured breathlessly. "Snape, s-stop."

Severus pulled away, hanging his head as he gulped air into his lungs. "S-sorry," He muttered, just as breathless.

Unable to resist, he leaned forward to place a gentle kiss against the tan throat. Electricity sparked where his lips met that golden flesh, and, gentleness forgotten, he began to suckle the pulse point beneath his lips. Potter gasped and jerked against him. Trembling fingers touched his neck, then cupped his jaw, forcing his mouth up to where it could be captured anew. And Potter did, wrapping his legs behind Severus' knees to stop him pulling away. They kissed and kissed, each one shallowly gasping at the slightest opportunity until Severus thought his lungs might explode. He pulled away when Potter pressed against him.

"Stop," He said firmly. "I-I can't."

Potter smirked, trying to pull him back into the kiss. "You started it."

Severus nodded, gripping slim, golden wrists and dislodging the warm fingers on his jaw. "I know. I…I apologize. I never intended…"

Potter grew serious and slipped off of the desk. "Alright, I get it. But then…why?"

Severus flinched at the hurt in the younger wizard's tone. "I am forced to admit, Mister Potter, to having some conflicting emotions towards you, ever since I witnessed your Patronus early last term. It is a tale amongst Wizards that-that two alike Patronus…It is sometimes indicative of-"

"Oh, I know," Potter admitted sheepishly.

Severus frowned, looking up into that entrancing emerald gaze. "You do?"

Potter nodded. "Mm-hm. Ron told me in Fifth Year. Hermione's Patronus is an otter, and his is a breed of dog famous for hunting otters."

"I see," Severus said, looking away again. So Potter had known all this time.

"There's only one way to know for sure, you know," Potter said. He lifted his wand and cast his stag.

Severus sighed and lifted his own wand. He cast his doe, and wasn't sure which outcome frightened him more. The not-knowing was demolished when the doe and stag set upon each other, nuzzling like old lovers reunited. Severus stared resolutely at the floor. Damn.

Potter cleared his throat, but didn't speak. Severus was, after several moments, the one to break the tense silence.

"You should go, Potter. It is nearly curfew."

He saw Potter nod out of the corner of his eye. Nothing more was said as Potter left the office. Almost as soon as the door had closed, it opened again to admit Remus Lupin. Severus looked purposefully away from werewolf as he moved around his desk to sit. Lupin apparently needed no explanation.

"If you were wondering," Remus said quietly. " _That_ was your opportunity. Perhaps the only one you'll ever get."

Severus flinched at the coldness in his schoolmate's tone. He'd been a fool to hope.


	10. Chapter 10

A few days into the new term, Severus found himself escorting one of his Slytherins to the Hospital Wing. He had no sympathy for the First Year, who had broken his nose thanks to a show of uncontrolled magic by one of his fellow Snakes. It served him right for spouting that Pureblood horseshit. He led the crying eleven-year-old into the Infirmary and directed him to the nearest empty bed. Poppy shuffled immediately over.

"What happened?" She asked in exasperation.

Severus gave a short explanation as the witch pressed a wad of gauze to the young boy's nose.

"Harry! Be a dear and bring me a pain potion and some numbing salve?!"

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey," Came the instant reply.

Severus turned sharply to see Potter coming out from behind one of the privacy curtains. The younger wizard froze in surprise as soon as their eyes met. He blushed under Severus' dark scrutiny, but moved immediately to the potions cupboard. After gathering the requested items, he walked quickly past Severus to set the items on the bed where Poppy was still studying her patient.

"What happened here?" Potter asked the lad congenially.

"Got in a fight," the boy said proudly. Severus scowled, and the First Year cringed. "Er, I said something stupid and learned my lesson."

Potter chuckled. "Well, I certainly hope so." He glanced over his shoulder at Severus before turning back to the hospital matron. "Er, Madame Pomfrey, could you excuse me for a minute?"

"Of course, Harry dear, there's nothing here that I can't handle on my own," Poppy said sweetly.

Potter grinned and turned towards Severus. "Professor, could I speak to you for a moment?"

Severus, confused, nodded and followed as Potter led the way to Poppy's office. Once inside, he closed the door. He turned to Potter, who was staring at him guiltily.

"I'm sorry," The younger man said quickly, wincing. "I-I should've told you. I just…I wasn't sure how to mention it. I thought about just going down and saying 'hi', but after how we left things, I thought that would be stupid. I could've written, but that seemed even sillier…and, anyway, it's not like we made any promise of communication or anything. I realize you might not be comfortable with our proximity after…after what happened…but Poppy offered me this job, and it was a really good opportunity, and…Would you just please stop staring at me like that and get the yelling bit over with?"

Severus responded to this by drawing the Gryffindor into a strong, insistent kiss that set his heart aflame. The treacherous organ that responded with empathy to a battered young man and changed him forever was beating so rapidly in his chest that he honestly feared it would break free of it's confines. Potter responded eagerly to the kiss, and Severus hated the space between them, but didn't have the confidence or courage to close it. He pulled away breathlessly and stared down into the green eyes in confusion.

"Why would I yell at you?"

Potter blushed. "You looked sort of angry before."

Severus stared at him, befuddled.

"That! That's the look. You're sort of…scowling."

Severus smirked in realization. "That, Mister Potter, is a look of confusion."

Potter blushed further and grinned with embarrassment. "Oh…Heh, guess I'll have to get used to you looking at me with something besides anger."

Severus drew the younger wizard into an intimate embrace and leaned down so that their lips almost met. "I look forward to instructing you in this matter…Harry."

Potter smirked. "It might take a while, Severus. _Years_ , perhaps; I'm a slow learner."

Severus breathed a laugh. "That is…agreeable."

Strong arms wrapped around Severus' neck and drew him down the miniscule distance so that their lips met again. The kiss was less insistent, but no less passionate as they embraced in the bright light of the Hospital Wing office. The flickering torches and illuminated filing drawers looked on in absent approval as two souls tangled together as one.


End file.
